Dear Jesus Christ, You deserve no lying.
You are not that One whom I worship much.
But I dare to ask You without whining
For a little gift at this blessed dark night.
Worse than bitter salt was that endless torture
Which You made me feel for my faults and sins.
Now I want to see - and it will be gorgeous! -
How You'll kill my bitterest enemies.
Insults were like snakes and my heart was burning.
I would drown my sorrows in dirty blood.
Now I want to hear Your angels moaning
And to poison one of them with my love.
I'm sill striving after Your main blessed present.
Let my friends be happy and safe and sound,
Let my poor soul keep on being sacred,
Let me see Your presence and light around.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem